Drift
by JustJasper
Summary: Follow up fic to 'Whiskey Mouth' and 'Irreparable'. Read those or you're not going to know what's going on. Reid would give anything to fix what he broke.


"**Perhaps this is what the stories meant when they called somebody heartsick. Your heart and your stomach and your whole insides felt empty and hollow and aching." - Gabriel Garcí a Márquez**

Reid had woken with the determined thought that he could move on, that being without Morgan in his life as more than a colleague was something he could deal with. Then he realised what date it was, and that it should have been the day of their one year anniversary. He thought about the Star Wars collector's box set and the Jimmy Hendrix vinyl record stashed in his closet, wrapped in preparation for the celebration, bought only a few days before New Orleans in anticipation of the milestone. He slumped back in bed, groaning into the empty room.

He arrived at briefing to find Morgan and Garcia missing. She turned up five minutes later, apologising and explained she'd been checking up on Morgan, who had called in to take a sick day as soon as the office was open.

"Is he okay?" Hotch asked.

"Not really, he spent most of the time I was there throwing up," she wrinkled her nose, and Reid would have believed her if he hadn't noticed the minute flicker of her gaze to him; it lasted less than a second, and he was sure everyone else had missed it.

"Probably a bug," JJ offered.

Reid had never been more thankful for an arsonist in New York on a spree with eight victims under their belt; the fast nature of the case kept his mind busy, Morgan's presence was missed, but the case moved so fast there was little time to linger on it. The unsub attacked and killed three more people before they apprehended him, leaving the team emotionally and physically drained. It wasn't until the jet flight home that Reid's thoughts came to the front, where he had nothing to distract himself. Morgan wasn't sick, he just couldn't face being around Reid on the anniversary that should have been. Whether or not the team realised Reid didn't know, but nobody tried to talk to him on the way back, until it was time to say their goodbyes and head off for the night.

Garcia had verbally twisted his arm to get him to agree to come out with her, Prentiss and JJ for a drink. After a hard case of knowing that Morgan wasn't there because of him, it was a welcome attempt at relief. That was, until they started commiserating with him about their interpretation of what had happened.

"Don't worry, Junior G," Garcia said soothingly, "You can get back out there."

"Or not, if you don't want," Prentiss said. "We can just have a good time."

"Yeah, but you can't let this thing scar you," Garcia countered. "Morgan's a good guy, I guess he just wasn't ready for more than a quick thing. It's in his nature, I guess. I mean I've tried telling him off, and I'm sure he feels bad."

"Guys," JJ said. "Well, some of them."

When he just smiled half-heartedly and sipped his drink, they took it as a sign to continue in the same vein.

"I mean, I bet it was fun, right?" Emily smiled at him encouragingly. "He's always been a bit of a dog."

"Yeah, but actually cheating?" Garcia said. "I didn't think it'd happen. Don't worry, we can find you someone to go home with tonight."

"He's cute," JJ commented as a tall blonde walked pasted their table. "Or maybe a woman?"

"Yeah, shake it up a bit," Garcia laughed. "Forget Morgan! I'll give him another good talking to when-"

"Stop," Reid snapped, pushing himself up from the table, picking up his phone and casting his eyes over all three of them, who looked surprised. "It wasn't a 'thing', Garcia, it was a relationship, plans and mornings together and 'I love you's and everything. Morgan didn't do anything; I had sex with my ex-boyfriend in New Orleans. It was me!" He prodded his thumb at his chest. "I was unfaithful! I'm the one you should be making passive-aggressive comments about, and Morgan is the one you should be throwing this pity party for!"

He fished in his wallet and slapped down a twenty dollar bill on the table. "The next round is on me. I'm sorry."

He left quickly, shame burning on his face that he'd let them believe for so long that it wasn't his fault. He knew Morgan didn't want to explain it to them, because he was a much better man than Reid was, and was willing to let them think what they wanted, but Reid didn't think he deserved that much consideration. He'd hurt Morgan worse than anything could, and so far it had only been Morgan who had seemed to pay for it. He got in his car and drove away, hoping he hadn't hurt his friends, too.

He didn't realise until he'd driven onto the street that it was Morgan's road he was driving down. He thought about turning back, but something spurred him on, and he parked up outside his ex-lover's house.

"Der- Morgan, I'm sorry," Reid said as soon as the man opened the door to him. Morgan looked blankly at him, and then after a moment he pulled the door open wider, gesturing him inside.

Of all the things he'd thought would happen once he was over the threshold and into Morgan's house, the last one he expected was for Morgan to grab his face and pull him into a desperate kiss. He responded automatically, gripping onto the man's middle and opening his mouth eagerly to Morgan's searching tongue.

"I've missed you so much, baby," Morgan murmured against the man's mouth, still holding his face as if he was afraid Reid would pull away as he pushed him against the closed door. Reid couldn't push him away, didn't want to, even though he knew they should talk. Instead he gripped Morgan's neck, kissing him back fiercely. God, he'd missed Morgan's skin, his shape, the way he surged forward but never overpowered him.

Reid was the first to reach for the hem of the other's man's t-shirt, pulling it upwards as their mouth grappled for dominance of the kiss, each frantic in their motion with the fear the other would think for a split second and stop. He pushed the shirt upwards over Morgan's sculpted torso, and they broke apart long enough for it to come off over his head. Reid pulled his sweater off and then Morgan's fingers found the buttons of his shirt, making quick work of them as their mouths clashed against in a breathless kiss, and he tugged at his tie – a tie Morgan had bought for him.

"Derek," he moaned, tugging on the waistband of his sweats. The other got the idea, and they hurried up the stairs to Morgan's bedroom. Reid pulled off his shoes and socks and undid his belt as Morgan kissed his neck and jaw, large hands against the pale column of flesh. Reid pushed Morgan's sweats and boxers down, grabbing blindly at the man's flesh as they tumbled onto the bed in a mess of naked limbs, latching onto Morgan's dark neck, the delicate muscle and throbbing pulse there.

"Baby," Morgan murmured needily as he pulled Reid into his lap, squashing their erections together as his ex-lover wrapped his legs around him. Reid kissed his jaw as he bumped his hips forward, curling his hands against the base of the man's neck.

"Fuck, I've missed you. Missed this. Please," he pleaded, as Morgan's hips began to move. They fell into rhythm, and Morgan pressed his face into Reid's neck, kissing there as they moved frantically. Reid clung just as hard, moaning at the feeling of skin on skin, a feeling he never thought he'd experience again with the man he loved. He could feel the vague threat of tears even through his arousal, because he never thought he'd share this with the man again.

"Derek," he groaned, "Derek. Derek." The man's name was a mantra, as if it made what was happening more real.

Morgan slipped a hand between their undulating bodies and gripped them both in his large hand, squeezing and stroking them against each other. Reid practically whimpered at the sensation of Morgan's hand against him, holding their flesh together. He wanted it not to end, wanted to stay moving together forever, until matter itself drifted apart. In the haze of arousal, it seemed like maybe that was a possibility.

But Reid finished too quickly for such things, shaking with his release and bucking up into Morgan's hand. Breathlessly he peppered kisses along Morgan's jaw and shoulder, bringing his own hand down to replace Morgan's and get him off, kissing him on the mouth as the man's semen shot over his hand and onto their bellies, Morgan's deep groan reverberating against him.

They came down slowly, embracing in the sticky heat of sex, the frantic energy dissipated. Neither made to move for several long moments, dragging their lips over the skin of the other's neck and shoulders. Finally they moved to clean themselves off.

When Reid came out of the bathroom, Morgan was sat on the edge of the bed with his sweats pulled back on, head in his hands. He watched as the man's shoulders shook slightly, and Reid felt his chest constrict painfully.

"I shouldn't of done this," Morgan murmured. "You should go."

"Derek, please don't ask me-"

A sob escaped Morgan, one that broke his defence, and a flood followed. He crumbled, sobbing into the hands that covered his face. Reid felt his own tears well in his eyes, and he pressed his lips tightly together trying to stop them appearing. It was no use.

"I love you, Derek."

"I love you," Morgan responded. "But I don't want to." He ran his hands down his face, turning back to look in Reid's direction without looking directly at him, breath hitching miserably. "I don't want to feel this way about you. You fucked it all up, Reid. I don't want to love you, or need you, or miss you."

"Derek, I will do anything to make this right," Reid said sniffing back tears.

"You can't." Morgan dropped his head again, pressed his fingers to his temples. "You can't un-fuck Ethan. Every time I look at you I'm going to know we risked so much, and you threw it away because you didn't trust me." He gave a hollow laugh. "You didn't trust me. I'd have tried to help if you'd told me you were craving. Even if I couldn't help, I'd help you get what you needed. Like got you to call your sponsor or something. If you'd told me you thought things were going too slow between us, I'd have tried to fix it. At least I would have explained why, about Buford, about me. You just-"

Another sob caught him, and Reid watched Morgan's shoulders shake as he dissolved again. He lifted his hands and pressed them to his mouth to stop himself sobbing too; somehow he didn't feel that he deserved show that much hurt.

"Maybe I'm just an idiot," Morgan said finally. "Fuck, there's no 'maybe' about it; I thought this was going to be perfect. I thought it didn't matter how long it took for us to get to full sex, because I thought we were always going to be together. That sounds pathetic. It is pathetic. A reformed playboy, finding someone he wants to be with forever. Waking up happy. I'm fucking stupid."

Reid clasped his hand to his mouth hard to disguise the sob. Morgan was talking about a forever Reid had wanted too, but he's managed to destroy any chance of.

"I need you to leave," Morgan said finally, standing slowly. "I need you to never come round again."

There were no arguments left for Reid to make. He'd hurt Morgan more than human beings should hurt. Morgan had trusted him, and he'd betrayed him. He dressed hurriedly and left, the sound of Morgan's tears following him out of the house.

He'd never forget the sound.

* * *

+o+

* * *

Spencer brought two cups of coffee to work, in the hopes that even if he'd ruined their romantic relationship, he could salvage their working one. Morgan wasn't there when he arrived, and he didn't turn up to briefing.

"Reid," Hotch said, as everybody went to prepare to fly to their case, "a word."

Reid got up, but lingered behind as everyone else left. Some eyes lingered on him, and he had a sinking feeling he knew what Hotch was going to say.

"You probably don't know," Hotch said, "that Morgan is taking a leave of absence."

"How long for?" he asked.

"A few weeks." Hotch considered him intensely. "If you need some time off too, you can take it."

"No." Reid shook his head. He didn't feel like he deserved it. "I've messed everything up, Hotch."

Hotch didn't look away from his team member. "He needs time," he offered.

Reid searched the man's face and wondered, briefly, if Hotch was able to empathise from experience; perhaps Haley, or he himself had – no. Reid pushed the thought away.

"The end of a relationship is a loss," Hotch continued. "Morgan is mourning it. Maybe you need to, too."

Reid nodded numbly, though he didn't feel like mourning would be appropriate, when he'd been the one who killed it.

"**Hearts can break. Yes, hearts can break. Sometimes I think it would be better if we died when they did, but we don't." - Stephen King**


End file.
